


you put god in a chokehold

by nighimpossible



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Breathplay, Demisexual Azriel, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Rough Oral Sex, Strip Poker, Threesome - F/M/M, post acosf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 09:00:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29882172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nighimpossible/pseuds/nighimpossible
Summary: “The thought of Cassian pumping into her mouth while Azriel pounded into her from behind, the two of them working her in tandem—”Nesta makes good on her fantasies.
Relationships: Nesta Archeron/Azriel/Cassian
Comments: 1
Kudos: 46





	you put god in a chokehold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magisterequitum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magisterequitum/gifts).



> Spoilers for A Court of Silver Flames! This fic takes place a year or so after the end of the book. POV jumps between Nesta and Cassian, just like the book, if it's not obvious.
> 
> Title from the Jaymes Young song, "Two People."

_“Really,”_ Nesta drawls, tracing a line up Cassian’s naked stomach with a sharp nail. “Never? Not even once? Not in the decades you spent fighting together, working side by side, on the cold—” she presses her nail in a little further, indenting the skin slightly— “ _dark_ battlefield?”

Cassian makes a face. “Azriel and I are brothers in blood, Nes.”

“Not even when Rhys was away?” Nesta prods, climbing up to rest her bare chest against his. She squishes her breasts down against him, a mild tease, before looking up at him curiously. “I cannot believe you haven’t even entertained it.”

“Azriel has always had a lot on his plate,” Cassian demures.

“He’s handsome. If you wouldn’t go about it alone, what about sharing a female between the two of you?” Nesta asks.

“Now that’s your _own_ dirty mind thinking out loud,” Cassian barks out with a laugh. He slips a hand over her ass and grips it tightly. “You’re not satisfied with one Illyrian male?” Nesta rolls her eyes.

“Please, you know that I am,” Nesta says with a knowing sigh. Cassian lets out a pleased chuckle. But Nesta is not about to let this go. “I just think it would be fun.”

“Fun to fuck our friends?” Cassian teases. “Or just _my_ friends.”

“They’re all _our_ friends now,” Nesta says with a roll of her eyes. “I mean, there was a time when I thought you, Morrigan, and Azriel were all,” Nesta says, waving her hand in the air in a vague gesture, “ _together_.”

Cassian blanches. “I always thought of myself as a buffer between the two of them and their...whatever was going on between them.” He swallows. “Can we just say that it’s weird to think about sex with other people when all I want to think about is sex with you?”

“What, you’ve never even _thought_ about it?” Nesta asks.

Cassian flips Nesta onto her back and rolls his hips against hers, his hard length reminding her that they have unfinished business to settle. “If you don’t mind, I’d rather like to bed my own mate now. If she will allow it.”

“It seems like she’s been allowing it,” Nesta drawls. “And she’ll continue to allow it,” she adds in a soft voice as Cassian captures her lips in a tender kiss.

* * *

“You’re growing soft, Cassian,” Azriel smirks, planting a foot in between Cassian’s shoulder blades as he crows triumphant at the end of their sparring match. Cassian looks up from the ground at Azriel, breath coming hard and fast against the floor of the training grounds they maintain in the House of Wind.

“Shut up, Az,” Cassian winces as Azriel shoves off Cassian’s back with a final _fuck you_ shove. “Didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Like that’s ever been a good excuse,” Azriel laughs.

“It is when you’re bedding an Archeron,” Cassian points out. “They are...intense. And incredible.” He stares off into the middle distance, thinking of the many hours he and Nesta spent last night finding their own pleasure.

Cassian stands up with a heave from Azriel, and only when they are both on their two feet does Cassian catch sight of Azriel’s slight frown. He’s caught wind of Azriel’s lingering glances at Elain over the years since Feyre’s sisters arrived in Velaris, but the mating bond between Elain and Lucien hangs low and heavy across the three of them. Cassian cannot help but want to wipe the misery from Azriel’s mind. Not that Azriel lets his feelings show much, but his blows had been particularly pointed that morning. Sweat drips down Azriel’s brow, and Cassian watches as his brother in arms glistens in bittersweet victory.

Nesta’s voice pops into Cassian’s head from many months prior. _What, you’ve never even thought about it?_

Elain’s scent floats in from the hallway, and Azriel seems to stiffen in place.

“Dare I ask?” Cassian prods, but Azriel’s expression is dark as one of his shadowy tendrils seems to nearly hiss in Cassian’s direction.

“Rhys has forbidden it,” Azriel says tightly. “Seems to think Lucien will invoke a Blood Duel if—if anything were to happen.”

_As would be Lucien’s right,_ Cassian thinks to himself. “You’d kill him,” Cassian points out. “Easily.”

“I _know,”_ Azriel grits out through his teeth. “Apparently, that’s the problem.”

Cassian furrows his brow, the cogs in his brain beginning to turn. “He thinks Beron would retaliate.”

Azriel shrugs. “Maybe. Maybe not.” But the silence between the two of them speaks volumes.

Cassian throws a generous arm over Azriel’s shoulders. “Drinks with me and Nes tonight, Az. We have to melt that expression off your face somehow.”

Azriel purses his lips before pulling away. “Another time, brother. I have other business to attend to this evening.”

* * *

“You have a far-off look in your eyes tonight, Cassian,” Nesta hums, pressing her lips against his shoulders. “Something plagues you?”

Cassian hums, taking her fingertips into his hand. “Have you spoken to Elain about Lucien?”

Nesta’s face darkens. “Not much beyond telling her that she doesn’t have to be with Lucien if she doesn’t want him.” She pauses. “Elain asked me about our mating bond. After the ceremony.” She sighs a little. “We compared. It is different, for obvious reasons,” she adds, squeezing Cassian’s hand tightly. “She feels pity for Lucien, because she’ll never love him. Elain has always had a bigger heart than any of us.”

Nesta pauses. “What happened today?”

“Apparently, Rhys warned Azriel not to make any moves,” Cassian grits out. “That if we lose the Autumn Court’s allegiance, we risk all out war.”

“That’s stupid,” Nesta says flatly. “Doesn’t Rhys want his family to be happy? Or is happiness only reserved for _him_ and _his_ mate?”

Cassian shoots her a warning glare. “That’s our High Lord, Nesta.”

Nesta sticks out her tongue. “Doesn’t make his decisions right. Or fair.” Nesta pours herself into Cassian’s lap, and Cassian sighs at the touch of his mate. Her embrace is like a cool cloth across his brow. “I assume you saw Azriel today.”

“He’s miserable,” Cassian nods, holding Nesta tight in his arms. “But he hides it well.” He’s quiet for a long moment before adding, “Do you think it would distract him, a bit, if we—if we had him for dinner?”

Nesta laughs, and Cassian can feel the reverberations of the sound against his skin. “Oh, so you’ve been thinking about my proposition?”

“Shut up,” Cassian murmurs, kissing the delicate skin of her neck. “Yes, I’ve thought about it. But he’s away on spymaster business tonight.” He pauses. “We’ll invite him to the House?”

“Has my dirty mind finally piqued your curiosity?” Nesta grins with a nod, pressing Cassian back against their mattress. 

“Always,” Cassian admits, chasing her winning smile with a kiss.

* * *

Azriel isn’t back from the human lands for a few weeks, and when he does return, Nesta notes that he appears rather worse for wear. New scars overlay his forearms, though it is hard to discern where the new scars start and the old burns begin. He comes to train with the Valkyries after a few days back home, surprising Emerie and Gwyn with a quick sneaking trip attack that knocks both Valkyries to the ground.

“What have you all been learning in my absence? I’m seeing some terribly sloppy footwork,” Azriel chides, looking over at Cassian. The two Illyrians lock eyes in a silent but appreciative gaze, and Nesta finds herself crossing her arms tightly in front of her chest. The center of her starts to burn, hot and sweet, and she shifts her stance slightly to press the seam of her leathers against her core.

Cassian shoots her a knowing glance, sensing her arousal from across the room.

“Cheap shot, there,” Cassian points out, grasping Azriel’s hand in a strong shake before continuing on with the training session. “Gwyn’s going to take you down one of these days, mark my words. Or maybe Emerie. It’s a contest, ladies,” he calls out from across the grounds. “Winner gets a prize.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Azriel nods in appreciation at the Valkyries in his presence.

Nesta walks over to the two of them and places a polite hand on Azriel’s shoulder. He is not as broad as Cassian beneath her touch, but his arms are still muscular and full of untapped strength. His blue siphons glow hot under her gaze. “Azriel, could do me a favor?”

Nesta spends the rest of the training session asking Azriel for pointers using daggers, as they are his speciality. Azriel dutifully goes through various forms, showing her with his own blade—though he does not let Nesta touch Truth-Teller. She remembers the blade vividly in Elain’s hand, but does not ask for the weapon. It remains sheathed on his hip.

“Like this?” Nesta asks, and she goes through the six variations Azriel had performed. Each motion is a feinted attack at Azriel, one that Azriel parries with ease. Truth-Teller glints in the early morning light, sheathed at his side.

“Almost,” Azriel nods as Nesta finishes her demonstration, moving her foot into a wider stance and lowering her shoulders with both hands. His touch is light but steady. “Try again. If you can reach me with the tip of your blade, consider that a point well-earned.” Nesta finds herself locking eyes with Cassian again, who looks—curious. Heated. Interested.

Gods, Nesta loves her mate.

Nesta tries again, but this time, she feigns a trip in her dagger maneuvers as she stumbles forward. Azriel reaches out to catch her—but Nesta’s hands are quick enough that they surprise Azriel. She has a blunt blade at his belly, point pressing against his abdomen.

“So what does Nesta get for a _point well-earned_ , Lord Shadowsinger?” Emerie grins at Azriel as Gwyn whoops in delight at Nesta’s success.

“A ruse,” Azriel grins, his eyes narrowing at her. “I thought you were above that.”

“You think Cassian hasn’t had me master daggerwork ages ago? Azriel, darling,” Nesta laughs, pressing the blunted tip teasingly against Azriel’s stomach. He takes a sharp inhalation of breath as she traces a small circle along his abdomen. Finally, she backs off Azriel, removing her blunted blade, and looks up at him fondly. “You should know better.”

Azriel looks like he wants to say something, as his mouth opens, but no words come out.

“Dinner?” Cassian grits out, and when Nesta turns to look at him, he has a flush across his cheeks that has nothing to do with their work-out. “Just the three of us.”

Azriel pauses before nodding, one of his shadows slithering up his arm curiously. “I have to report to Rhys my findings this afternoon, so I’ll see you after dark.”

* * *

“You’re being obvious,” Cassian sighs after Nesta appears in the corridor in her dinner ensemble. “Look at you. Just—devastating.”

“It’s just pants, Cassian,” Nesta says with a sigh.

_“Tight_ pants,” Cassian says wistfully, grabbing a cheekful of her bottom in the palm of his hand on her way past him. “I thought you hated wearing pants.”

“I like what pants make males do,” Nesta grins. “And I know Azriel likes them.”

“Oh,” Cassian says smartly. “Well, he’s got sense in his head. Of course he does.”

Nesta stops in her tracks and turns around to face Cassian. She reaches up on her tiptoes and kisses him gently on the mouth. “I really like the fact that you’re not jealous here,” she sighs against him. “It’s very attractive.”

“Well, we both know I’m yours,” Cassian grins against her. “And I’m confident in us.”

“As I’m yours,” Nesta nods. “No matter how tonight goes, we’re still us.” Another kiss, this time lingering and full of promise. Cassian raises an eyebrow at her as if to ask, _should we head back to the bedroom?_

“Should I come back another night?” a voice from the foyer echoes. Azriel, decked out in his courtly shadowsinger ensemble, walks in with a bottle of liquor in his hand that the House quickly disappears to the kitchen.

“You’re just in time,” Nesta croons, pulling back from Cassian and inviting Azriel in with a wave of her arm. “I think the House has prepared its finest meal for us. And I’m dying to beat you at cards.”

* * *

“Let’s make it interesting, boys,” Nesta grins at them. “How about upping the ante?”

The dinner plates are long gone and the cards have been drawn. A small glass of brandy sits in front of Azriel, which he will pick up to sip on occasion, but his eyes are bright and sharp.

“What kind of ante?” Azriel asks.

“Nes, I already owe Azriel a truly obscene amount of gold,” Cassian groans. “No betting.”

“What kind of ante?” Azriel repeats.

“Well, if you don’t want to play for money,” Nesta drawls, and at this point, Cassian knows her well enough that she’s doing this on purpose—leading with a feint, and revealing her true purpose only after her enemy’s guard is down. She’s a clever fighter, both with her words and her deeds. It’s part of what makes her so deadly. Her courtly politicking? Absolutely devastating. Gods, his mate is fantastic. “What about strip poker?” She sticks her tongue out at Cassian. “If you won’t play for money. You big baby.”

“What, as some kind of weird foreplay for the two of you?” Azriel looks at Cassian with a confused expression. Cassian knows he’s asking because the initial mating fever is intense and nearly feral for most couples towards the beginning of the bond, but it’s been almost a year since the two of them had snapped that link into place. That, and Cassian is more than a little bit interested in seeing everyone with their clothes off.

“You’re just worried you’re going to lose,” Cassian grins broadly, clapping Azriel on the shoulder and giving him a gentle, reassuring squeeze. “Deal me in.”

“It always starts like this,” Azriel winks at Nesta, picking up his cards. “Big boasts from that one. At the end of the night, you end up owing me. Simple pattern.”

“You all should know you’re playing with a shark,” Nesta says primly, settling down with her own hand.

“Oh, we know,” Cassian says, eyeing her up and down.

Azriel is quiet before adding, “We know exactly what you are, Nesta.”

* * *

True to his promise, Azriel is very good at cards. Cassian is half-naked before they’ve even gone five hands.

“How much gold do you owe him, exactly?” Nesta asks with a snort as Cassian unlaces the neck of his shirt.

“Enough to finance a small country,” Azriel says smugly.

“You’re both brats,” Cassian grumbles, tugging his under-shirt over his head.

Nesta has managed to keep most of her clothes on. Azriel claimed both socks, Cassian a single ring. Her pants and shirt remain in place. 

She has a plan.

Cassian folds early in the next hand, and then it’s just Azriel and Nesta waiting for the river. Cassian walks over to Azriel and puts his hands on Azriel’s shoulders, peering over to see what cards he’s got in his pocket. He stands close enough to feel Azriel’s warmth.

“You should fold, Nesta,” Cassian drawls.

“Shut up,” Azriel says.

“Darling, play fair,” Nesta sighs. She is pretty certain she’s got a winning hand, but she has a plan. “I will fold, though.” Nesta presses the cards to the table with a shrug.

“You owe us some clothing, then,” Cassian grins.

“You’re sure you want to fold before the river?” Azriel asks.

  
But Nesta is already pulling off her shirt. She hears one tight, piercing inhalation of air from Azriel and one appreciative, “Damn, girl. Where have you been hiding that pretty piece of lace?”

“It’s nice, isn’t it,” Nesta grins, thumbing at the fabric with her hand. Blue lace as deep as sapphires shines against her pale skin in the dim light of the dining room. It matches Azriel’s siphons. Nesta is nothing if not intentional. “You like it?”

Azriel’s clears his throat and, in a quick motion, grabs Nesta’s folded hand of cards. He pulls the river and frowns. “You could have won with this,” he says quietly, looking hard at the board.

Nesta takes her time leisurely walking around the table to Azriel and Cassian. She sits herself on top of the table, next to the discarded playing cards. “I could have won?” she asks, crossing one leg on top of the other.

“Yes,” Azriel says softly. He leans back slightly, but can only lean back into Cassian’s warmth. “What’s—what’s going on?” He looks up at Cassian from his chair, and then back at Nesta on her perch in front of him.

“I think we’re playing different games,” Nesta tells him frankly, leaning forward. She puts her hands on either arm of Azriel’s chair. “And I think I might still win tonight.”

Azriel is dangerously still. “I thought you were just having me for dinner.”

“Could still be just dinner,” Nesta nods. “And it has been a really lovely dinner.”

“Up to you, really,” Cassian adds from behind Azriel.

“Or we could _really_ have you for dinner,” Nesta finishes, full seductive intent loud and clear as she tilts her head down at him. Azriel stills, absolutely motionless between the two of them. “Can I tell you why you should say yes?”

Azriel’s stiff back relaxes slightly. “I don’t think any person in Prythian could stop you.”

“You’re attractive,” Nesta says plainly. She reaches out and gently takes Azriel’s cheek in her palm. He is still under her fingertips, but the blush on his cheek is warm to the touch. “And we see that you’ve had a hard time as of late, and we want to make you feel good. Also,” she says with a smile, “it’s fun to fuck your friends.”

“It was pretty awkward for a few decades after Cassian and I hooked up as teenagers,” Azriel points out.

Nesta gasps. “You _liar,”_ she points at Cassian. “I asked if you two had ever been together!”

_“It was just handjobs,”_ Cassian hisses. “And Az, we were teenagers. _Everything_ was awkward.”

“And you think you’re more mature now?” Azriel says, a laugh lighting his words up like a flame to a candle wick.

“At least, I think I haven’t gotten worse,” Cassian allows.

“Haven’t you ever had sex for fun, Azriel?” Nesta asks. “It’s not like we’re not asking you to fall in love with us.”

Azriel is quiet for a long moment. “I find it very hard to enjoy casual sex. Mostly because I can’t be aroused by people I don’t know well. By people I don’t,” and he pauses before continuing, “cherish.”

“I think I understand,” Nesta tells him quietly, curiously. “You’re someone who falls in love with _all_ their friends,” Nesta realizes, her eyes bright. “Everyone you care for gets a small part of your heart. Just a little.”

Azriel winces, and his words are barbed as it appears Nesta hit a chink in his emotional armor. “You don’t know me, _witch.”_

“Easy,” Cassian says quietly, trying to calm the room.

“But who do you know better Cassian?” Nesta asks quietly.

“No one,” Azriel replies in a whisper.

“And he can smell your arousal when you look at me,” Nesta grins.

“That’s—that’s not fair,” Azriel says, his resolve cracking slightly. “I’m—I’m exhausted, lusting after one mated Archeron. I can’t get between the two of you—”

“You’re not getting between me and Cassian,” Nesta tells Azriel frankly. “Cassian is my mate and I would kill the world for him. Fairly certain he feels the same. Joining us in bed doesn’t change that.” Azriel is looking at her with wide eyes, and she watches as the thrum of the pulse in his neck seems to quicken. “You would be...complimenting us.”

“I’m honestly impressed you’ve gotten this far without relenting, Az,” Cassian grins from behind Azriel. He has slithered a large hand into Azriel’s hair, gripping him at the roots loosely. A small shiver hums through Azriel, and Nesta knows that they’ve got him.

Azriel lifts his nose up at Nesta. “Just because we _want_ things doesn’t mean we can have them. Trust me when I say I know that feeling _quite_ well.”

Nesta slides from the table into Azriel’s lap. “What I’m telling you right now,” she says with a gentle press of her fingers against Azriel’s chest, “is that when it comes to Cassian and I, you can have whatever you want.”

She reels Cassian in from over Azriel’s shoulder for a long, luxurious kiss. He tastes like the brandy the two Illyrians have been drinking throughout the night. When she turns to Azriel, she has Cassian on her tongue. “Tell me if you can taste the brandy,” she murmurs, pressing her lips to Azriel’s.

Cassian tugs Azriel’s head back by the hair as Nesta licks against Azriel’s lips. Her tongue catches on a scar at the edge of his mouth. “We’re not in love with you, Azriel,” Nesta sighs against his mouth. “But we do love you.”

Cassian drops his mouth to the crown of Azriel’s head. “Aye. That we do.”

Nesta can feel Azriel’s body physically relaxing beneath her. One tentative hand reaches up to grip Cassian’s forearm, another slides up the small of Nesta’s back.

“Okay,” Azriel breaths. “Okay.”

He parts his lips slightly, and Nesta kisses Azriel deeply. The kiss turns into a snarl of an embrace as Azriel’s around her waist tightens, bringing Nesta in close. Nesta is well-practiced with Cassian’s devouring kiss, but Azriel’s embrace is different—he is more pointed, more cautious.

Nesta pulls away as Azriel looks up at Cassian, and Nesta is surprised to find one of Azriel’s shadows dancing up Cassian’s neck. “Cute,” Cassian grins down at the two of them, letting the shadow curl around his throat like a scarf. “My vote is to take this to the bedroom. All in favor?”

* * *

“Clothes off,” Nesta says greedily, her hands grappling at Cassian’s leathers, tearing apart the strings at his front with practiced hands. She grins over her shoulder at Azriel, tugging at his shirt in turn. “Let’s see some more of you.”

“Greedy little thing,” Azriel smirks. “Careful what you wish for. Might not like what you see.”

“Please,” Nesta laughs, helping Cassian out of his pants. “I’ve seen you both half-naked on the training grounds. I know what scars you bear.” She blushes mildly, and she knows Cassian can smell the heat of her arousal. “In fact, that may have been where I first had this brilliant idea.”

“We all know you’re the mastermind,” Cassian grins at her, freed from most of his clothing. With a flick of his fingers, he unclasps Nesta’s blue lace and sends the bra clattering to the floor. Azriel is looking directly at Cassian as Nesta’s breasts come to light. “They’re beautiful, I know. You can look,” Cassian says, pressing a kiss to the back of Nesta’s neck and cupping her breasts towards Azriel—an offering. “You should do more than look, Azriel.”

Azriel’s eye-line dips down to Nesta’s breasts, and Nesta hears him curse under his breath. Nesta has often gotten praise from her past lovers that her breasts are one of her best attributes. Cassian has spent days lingering over the way her curves fit so pleasantly in the grasp of his hand. Nevertheless, Nesta preens as Azriel draws near, standing up straighter as Azriel reaches out his hands to cup her. He lets out a low groan as his fingers, feather light, glide over her soft skin. Nesta echoes that sentiment with a quiet moan of her own. Azriel’s touch is gentle and tantalizing. It makes her curious for more. 

Aziel’s thumb grazes across her nipple as Cassian makes quick work of her pants, loosening them enough so that he can dip his hand between her legs and feel the wetness at her core. Cassian’s fingers rub against her in slow, easy motions that come to him like muscle memory. She lets out a slow whine that evolves into a guttural growl as Azriel leans down to take one of Nesta’s nipples into his mouth. He licks at her, his tongue quick and snake-like, and Nesta grows hot at the idea of his mouth in other places. Her legs nearly buckle as both Cassian and Azriel begin their machinations upon her simultaneously, Cassian’s finger’s growing quicker in their rubbing and Azriel’s tongue with the rough edge of teeth upon her sensitive breast.

But Nesta has had ideas of how this threesome would go from the start.

“I want to get my mouth on you,” Nesta whines, grabbing at Azriel’s pants.

“I’d do as the lady says,” Cassian says, lightness and humor in his voice that Nesta revels in. “She gets _snippy_ when you don’t do as she’s told.” Nesta has always enjoyed sex with Cassian in every way—the intense, brutal fucks they had before accepting their mating bond, the sensitive and intimate love-making they had afterwards, and every iteration in between—but when there is a sense of levity and snark between them? That union cannot be beaten. It’s part of what drew Nesta to Cassian in the first place.

Nesta drops to her knees. “I want to get my mouth on both of you.”

Cassian swears out loud.

“You were saying that sleeping with an Archeron is intense?” Azriel says lightly as he pulls himself out of his pants. He is half-hard and impressive in length, Nesta notes, though Cassian has him beat in terms of sheer size. Nesta licks up and down the length of her palm before reaching out with her right hand to grasp him at the tip. Before Azriel can let out a moan, Nesta has taken the head of his member into her mouth, stroking at the underside with her tongue.

She feels, once again, the featherlight ghost of Azriel’s hand, this time near her head.

“It’s okay, she likes that,” Cassian nods, and Nesta feels Cassian pressing Azriel’s hand down against her hair. Azriel’s fingers thread against her scalp and Nesta moans encouragingly, a shiver tracing down her spine. She’s always liked men fucking her mouth, always liked the feeling of being used for someone else’s pleasure. Azriel cock on her tongue is no different.

“Tell her how she feels around you,” Cassian instructs Azriel, as Nesta bobs her head up and down along Azriel’s length. “Tell her what you like.”

“That,” Azriel grits out as Nesta slips off the tip of Azriel, spit slick and flushed. “I like that.” She gently jerks him off with her left hand as she kisses the head of his cock. “ _Gods_ , Nesta.”

“She’s a talent,” Cassian says, brushing the hair out of her eyes as she reaches for Cassian’s length, which he has made available for her perusal. “Come here now, love.”

Nesta is very used to blowing Cassian, so when she engulfs him from root to tip, it’s not a surprise to either of them that she can take his massive length and girth without so much as a wince. But it is a surprise to Azriel, who inhales sharply at the sight. Nesta’s eyes begin to water slightly as she holds herself there, Cassian’s warm length resting at the back of her throat. Cassian reaches down, wipes the tear from her eye, and presses the wetness to his lips.

“Truly fucking obscene,” Azriel murmurs. Nesta can hear him come towards her from behind, and as he pulls back off of Cassian, gasping for air, Nesta feels Azriel tangle his fingers in her hair. “You should do it again.”

Azriel takes her by the hair, hard, and leads her head towards Cassian’s cock. Nesta’s mind blurs nicely at the force of Azriel’s hands upon her. She likes telling people what to do, likes telling Cassian what to do a _great_ deal—but she also enjoys being under the control of someone she trusts implicitly. She whimpers in pleasure as Azriel’s fingers pull her head back and up, right in position to take Cassian’s cock in her mouth.

Nesta looks up at Cassian through her lashes and his eyes are dark as night, pupils dilated and full of desire. She grabs at Cassian’s thighs and pulls him closer.

Nesta takes Cassian into her mouth again and behind her, Azriel holds her head in place. Strong, steady, calming strokes of his fingers run through her hair. Even if Nesta tried to squirm away, she’s not sure she could escape. And then there’s Cassian in front of her, rocking his hips over and over, the smell of him always arousing and intoxicating. She steadies herself against Azriel’s legs, her knees chafing against the rug beneath them. As often as she must, Nesta pushes back against Azriel, and he releases her for a long gasp of air, and then she is met with Cassian’s cock again at her lips, and they begin again.

“Fuck,” Cassian grits out, his hips growing erratic in their patterned thrusts. “I won’t last.”

“Then _don’t,”_ Azriel commands, and Nesta simply grips the back of Cassian’s thighs, pulling him in as close as she can. Cassian almost instantly spills down the back of her throat, gripping Azriel’s shoulder just to remain standing, and Nesta drinks him down as cleanly as she can muster. Still, when Cassian finally pulls away, Nesta is a mess of her own spit and Cassian’s seed.

“Ready for more?” Cassian checks in with her. Nesta nods, and Cassian hoists her onto the bed, the back of her neck arching back against the edge of the mattress. She can see Azriel standing behind her, upside down from this perspective, and she grins at him.

“Come here,” she says, reaching for Azriel while Cassian gently nudges her knees so that he can lay in between her legs. Cassian presses a kiss to her inner thigh like a knock on a door, and Nesta bows her knees wide to give him better access to her cunt. Cassian nearly smothers himself in her slick wetness and Nesta shouts out a cry as he massages her clit with his tongue, sucking at her eagerly.

Azriel reaches out and brushes his fingers against Nesta’s nipple. She is arched along the mattress, and Nesta can only open her mouth as Azriel gets close, allowing the head of his cock to slip inside her mouth. Cassian quickly heaves her leg over his shoulder so that he lick against her clit with the flat of his tongue more easily. This is sensation overload: the inability to take a deep breath as Azriel slams himself down her throat, combined with the rolling pressure against her clit. Nesta clenches around nothing and whines, rolling her hips in search of something to fill her core—fingers or even better, Cassian’s slick length.

“Please,” she gasps as Azriel pulls out of her so that she can take a breath just deep enough to continue. “Please, _please—”_

“Soon, sweetheart,” Cassian murmurs, his words reverberating against her skin. “But you’ll come like this. Empty, aching for us. I know you can do it.” He nuzzles against her clit over and over again as Azriel begins to find a steady rhythm, fucking down her throat. Spit drips across her face and Nesta’s vision blurs enough that she has to close her eyes. Azriel suddenly stops the thrusting of his hips and pauses, stuffed to the root in her mouth. He has a hand on her throat, and she is certain that he can feel himself inside her. It’s dizzying, or maybe it’s the fact that Nesta can’t remember the last time she took a deep breath that’s dizzying, or perhaps it’s Cassian licking his way up and down her cunt that’s taking her breath away—and then all she can feel is how her thighs clench around Cassian’s head as she comes, holding him in place as he continues to eat her out, as Azriel pulls out allowing her a real breath at long last.

“Good work,” Azriel praises her quietly, rubbing the head of his slick length across her lips. “That’s one.”

* * *

“Oh, f-fuck you,” Nesta moans in pleasure as Azriel crooks his fingers inside her slick, wet heat. Her cunt is over-sensitive and aching, still convulsing in the aftershocks of a well-earned orgasm, but Azriel is deliciously persistent. “I just came. Please.”

“But we’re not done with you yet,” Cassian points out greedily, kissing the skin behind her ear. “This was your idea, Nes.” She’s sitting up on the edge of the bed now, Cassian at her back, holding her wrists to her chest with one broad arm. In front of her is Azriel, knuckle deep in her cunt with a smile on his lips.

“Nesta, you’ve never struck me as someone to back down from a challenge,” Azriel grins at her. He falls to his knees before her, replacing his roaming thumb with a slippery tongue against her clit.

“You two are picking on me,” Nesta hisses, but she luxuriates in the attention.

“Yes,” Cassian laughs in her ear. “That’s sort of the point.”

“I’m going to get you back— _fuck—_ ” Nesta grunts as she feels herself clench down around Azriel’s fingers. She wriggles in Cassian’s arms in an attempt to escape Azriel’s wiley fingers, but Cassian holds her steadfast and true as she comes again. Stars blink in the corners of her eyes as she shudders between the two of them. This ecstasy is delicious in its nature, and Nesta revels in how entangled she feels amongst these Illyrians who would risk their lives a thousand times over to protect her. The weight of them against her turns the part of Nesta’s brain off that wants to scream about her failures. 

Nesta’s words come slow and gooey as her mind comes back down from the heights of pleasure. “Alright. What does a girl have to do to get fucked around here?”

Cassian growls in anticipation. “Dangerous words, Nes.”

* * *

Nesta presses her face into the hollow of Cassian’s neck as she sinks down upon his cock.

“Fuck,” she hisses, “go, go—”

Azriel’s hand slips its way down her belly to slip his fingers to her apex. Nesta presses her spine back against his chest and finds herself sandwiched between the two of them. Sweat drips down between Nesta’s breasts, tickling her as she crushes her peaked nipples against the hard planes of Cassian’s pectoral muscles. Cassian’s hips snap up into her, hard and fast enough to make her bounce up and down in turn, as Azriel rubs against her clit with two precise fingers. Nesta cannot remember the last time she’s felt this overwhelmed. There is nowhere she can turn to escape this heat. If her silver flames were still with her, she would be concerned about setting the three of them on fire. Even still, with the flickers of remaining power, it would be enough to give Nesta pause—if she could still think straight. Time blurs as she screams, coming hard on Cassian’s cock and clenching down _tightly_ around him. He continues his thrusting inside her until he has spilled his seed once more, this time inside her pulsating walls, hot and thick.

“Your turn,” Cassian says tightly, pulling Nesta off his cock and pushing the small of her back down, ever so slightly. She can feel Cassian’s cum slipping out down her thigh as she tries to catch her breath. She loves the sensation of feeling _full—_ and then Azriel thrusts inside Nesta from behind and Nesta groans out a loud, low moan at the new angle. This is a new meaning of _full_.

“Azriel,” Nesta breathes, “ _Az_ —”

“She likes it hard and quick,” Cassian tells Azriel. “Show her what you can do, Az.”

Azriel’s rhythm matches Cassian’s from before, but this time she is still hypersensitive from her last orgasm, and Nesta simply sees stars. Someone touches her clit, but she’s not sure if those are Cassian’s fingers now or still Azriel’s, and frankly, she doesn’t fucking care. Her hips jerk, trying to escape the stimulation, but she can’t catch her breath, can’t do anything except shake on Azriel’s cock, can’t help but quake in Cassian’s arms. When she clenches down around Azriel, again and again, he simply holds her in place, keeping her full of his cock while she convulses around him. 

Nesta blacks out completely at this point, and when she comes to, she hears someone screaming, and it takes her a full second to realize that the person screaming is _her._ She breaks into a sob of ecstasy as her voice falls away completely. Nesta paws at Azriel, who finally slips out from her cunt, still hard. Azriel gives her a questioning look, but does not chase his release as Nesta collapses on the bed.

“Baby,” Nesta slurs. Cassian presses a kiss to her hip, and she can feel a slickness dripping between her legs onto the sheets. She is a languorous mess of spit, sweat, and cum. She doesn’t think she can move at the moment, let alone fuck any more. “I think I’m done.”

“Okay,” Azriel nods. He has a delicate hand around Nesta’s ankle, his thumb rubbing against the callous at the back of her heel. His touch is always purposeful and never unintended. Nesta feels held by him. “We’ll clean you up.”

* * *

Azriel is staring at Velaris from the window of Nesta and Cassian’s master bedroom in the House of Wind. Nesta knows that it is a beautiful sight even in the darkness, as the lights of the city illuminate little pathways that decorate the streets like constellations across an inky shadow. She longed for Velaris for many months during her re-conditioning. She knows what it’s like to marvel at its beauty.

“Az,” Cassian says quietly. Nesta watches Azriel quirk his head as Cassian pads across the rug between the bed and the window. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Azriel turns to look at Cassian. “Certainly worth dying for.”

“No one’s dying tonight,” Cassian hums, putting a hand on Azriel’s hip. They are still naked, an exhausted Nesta watching them from bed with a blanket half-draped over her side. “Can I—”

“Yes,” Azriel replies as Cassian reaches for Azriel’s cock. Nesta hears the slick sounds of lubricated skin against skin as Cassian jerks Azriel off slowly, confidently. She cannot imagine this is anything like the first time they touched each other like this as teenagers.

Azriel comes surprisingly quickly under Cassian’s machinations, and perhaps this is because Cassian is petting Azriel’s wing with his unoccupied hand. Nesta in her well-fucked state makes a mental note about Azriel enjoying wing-play. All the same, Azriel comes quietly, without fuss. She wonders what it would take to hear him scream.

The window is smeared with white streaks as Azriel shakes. Cassian cleans up the mess quickly as Azriel puts a hand against the glass to steady himself. He looks over at Cassian, who seems troubled from Nesta’s vantage point.

“Better than last time, yeah?” Cassian asks.

“Obviously,” Azriel grins at him.

Nesta watches as Cassian takes Azriel’s face in his hand, holding his face tightly. She’s not surprised so see her mate plant a loving kiss on his best friend. Azriel does seem a little shocked, though, as his eyes are wide when Cassian pulls away. “You know that whatever happens, I’m on your side,” Cassian tells Azriel frankly. “Because I want you to be happy.”

Azriel looks a little guilty. “I know.”

“You say that, you know, and then you disappear for a month to wallow,” Cassian points out, mussing Azriel’s hair. “Whatever you decide with Elain, I’ll back you up.”

_“We’ll_ back you up,” Nesta agrees from the mattress. “No talk of wallowing in the afterglow, you two.”

“I—” Azriel starts to protest, but then he thinks better of it. “Thank you.”

* * *

Nesta wakes up nicely sore. She presses her fingers against her hip where Azriel left a bruise or two and winces. 

“I’m a genius,” she tells a sleeping Cassian. Azriel had slipped away in the night, but Nesta had more than expected to wake up with just Cassian in her bed. She doesn’t take it personally.

“Hmm?” Cassian asks, half-asleep.

“Just say that my ideas are very good and I’m always right,” Nesta grins, pressing a kiss against his brow.

Cassian huffs out a laugh that is layered with mild worry. “My brilliant mate is brilliant. We already knew that.”

Nesta grows quiet in the delicate morning hum of a new dawn. “He’ll be alright, Cassian.”

“After our solid efforts last night? He better be more than alright,” Cassian jokes. His face grows more serious. “He will be. I know it, Nes. We’ll make sure of it.”


End file.
